Love and Lies

Chapter 1

Miles

I heard someone say once that we get the love we think we deserve. Apparently, I deserve nothing but heartbreak. 

My phone buzzed for the tenth time, and a weary sigh escaped my chest. Reluctantly, I pulled it out and played the latest voicemail. "Miles Calvin Thorn," my father's voice, stern and demanding as ever, filled the air. I deleted the message without hesitation.

I stared at the illuminated screen before opening the contacts app. I scrolled until she appeared. The contact photo is still a photo of my proposal. I clicked the phone icon, and it rang and rang and rang. Until her sweet voice came through the speaker: "Hiii it's Soph; sorry I was busy, just shoot me a text next time."

I would have, but every text I sent her was read and never responded to, even though it had only been six months.

Shaking my head, I downed two shots. Turning to the direction of Banks and Quincy, I screamed, "Get me fucked up tonight, boys. I'm single and ready to forget." Quincy cheered as he sloppily poured a stream of vodka down my throat. The waves crashing against the boat made it hard to keep the alcohol in my mouth. I came up for air and slumped back into the cushioned seats.

I sat there, my hand on some redhead's thigh, watching as Quincy took another shot while explaining to Banks that he was going to do a backflip off the balcony and into the pool. Banks just shook his head; he was the most sober person at this party. "I'm done trying to stop your drunk ass from killing yourself," he said, turning to me. "Your turn to handle Stupid."

"I'm too fucking drunk to be a babysitter!" I tried to yell over the music.

Banks gave me a look—the "you fucking suck" look. But I'd be damned if I had to be the one to drag Quincy to the ER during my own damn party.

"Quincy," I said, slurring the Y, "listen, buddy, I know you think you're invincible, but trust me, you're not." I patted his shoulder, trying to keep him and myself steady as we swayed back and forth.

Quincy's eyes widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "You're right, Miles! Let's get another drink!" He stumbled towards the bar, nearly tripping over his own feet.

I turned to Banks, who had his arms crossed and looked thoroughly unimpressed. "You're welcome," I said dryly. He threw up his middle finger and went after Quincy.

I love to act like my life is absolute shit, but the reality is that other than Sophia leaving me, I have no real right to complain. Banks and Quincy have it much more demanding than me. Banks is the sole heir to some of the oldest money in town and is expected to follow a predetermined path. And Quincy is the son of a baseball legend - that pressure is unimaginable. They both handle it far better than I do. Here I am once again getting drunk because a girl, no she wasn't just a girl, she was my girl, the girl I wanted to spend my entire life with.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thought of her. Tonight wasn't about any of that; it was about forgetting. I snatched the almost empty bottle of vodka, taking several long swigs until it was empty. Impulsively, I grabbed the face of that redhead beside me and kissed her. It was messy—tongues clashing, hands roaming. I didn't know her name and doubt I would've cared. At that moment, that kiss was the last thing I truly remember. The rest was just darkness.

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A splash of cold water jolted me awake, and my father's looming figure came into focus. Everett Thorn stood over me, a face of disappointment. How I'd gotten home was a mystery, but here I was, paying for last night's escapades.